


Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

by fianllyclean



Series: All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Archangel Dean Winchester, But whatever, Gen, i guess, i honestly don’t know what this is, michael makes dean michael, that probably doesn’t make any sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 08:44:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12837540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fianllyclean/pseuds/fianllyclean
Summary: “They were a brilliant shade of blue, and he felt like his soul was being pried open.”





	Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

**Author's Note:**

> So instead of working on any of my other stories, I wrote this! I found a poem from The Lord Of The Rings and I thought it was nice so I wrote a fanfic inspired by it. I hope whoever reads this likes it, and feel free to leave a comment! (and kudos. please. i’m begging you.)

_Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost_

 

_The church bells rang is Dean’s ear, piercing through the quiet town. He walked down the street alone, his hands curled up in fists; shoved in his jacket pockets. The cold air didn’t bother him anymore, neither did the crunching of snow under his boots. He had no reason for being here, but something was calling him._

_Despite the energy luring him to the church, Dean didn’t go inside. It wasn’t right. Besides, people stare at the outcast. As he came towards the looming building, he began to feel uneasy. Nervous. However, he didn’t turn around. He oddly knew that he was safe. Maybe even somehow protected._

_Dean walked past the church, carefully avoiding the late attendees. Churches often reminded him of cults. Hundreds of people praying to a single entity, chanting the same prayers every week. He supposes they are really cults, anyhow. The further away he walked from the church, the stronger the energy felt._

_He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, turning around to look at the monastery. Dean sighed as he tried to figure out what energy could pull him in so strongly. Maybe an angel. No, angels don’t exist. But mom always said angels were watching over him. What if she was right?_

_He shook his head and continued walking, refusing to go towards the church. He had never believed in angels, why would he start to now? The sky was still gray when he looked up at; he wasn’t surprised. The skies had been dark ever since winter started, and that was only a couple days ago._

_Dean wasn’t sure how long he had been walking for. Hours, probably. He had left the town almost forever ago, headed down a desolate road. The sole sound of his footsteps was broken by a car’s tires on the asphalt. He looked up at the car and froze. The Impala._

_The Impala came to a stop besides him. “Dean.” He looked through the window and saw a man he didn’t recognize. “It’s time.” Without thinking, Dean got into the passenger seat. It felt like home._

_As the car drove down the street, he had several questions going through his head. But Dean couldn’t seem to ask them, even if he tried. It was almost like someone stitched his mouth shut._

_In the blink of an eye, the Impala was stopped at the church. The driver stepped out and Dean did the same, closing the car door behind him. He followed the man into the chapel, feeling the same energy as before._

_The church was empty, and the only sound was a clock ticking and two pairs of footsteps echoing. The man stopped abruptly and faced Dean, before kneeling. Dean kneeled too, and couldn’t help but stare into the man’s eyes. They were a brilliant shade of blue, and he felt like his soul was being pried open._

_The stranger grabbed his hands gently, intertwining their fingers. “It’s time, Dean.” He didn’t understand. But it didn’t really matter. Not when he felt a burning hot pain flood through him._

_Dean couldn’t scream. His mouth wouldn’t open. Tears poured from his eyes, streaming down his face like a waterfall. “Dean.” His gaze was still focused on the unknown man, his blue eyes steady and calm._

_The pain suddenly stopped and Dean gasped, his whole body shaking. He felt different. Like he wasn’t in control of himself anymore. “That’s because you aren’t, Dean.”_

_“You’re Michael.”_


End file.
